On Sunday, completely out of the blue, my foot started hurting. Today I figured I could walk a little so I went out to the post office to mail Stephen the watch he forgot. That was enough to convince me that no, I cannot walk. Considering we’re going away next week overnight, this might be a bit of a problem.
Who wants to hear my self-diagnosis? It seems I have no choice but to come up with a diagnosis myself since I can’t get to a doctor until next week. (It seems there must be a whole lot of people with foot pain, eh?) I say it’s Plantar fasciitis. Of course we won’t know whether or not I’m right until Tuesday but I’m putting my money on that.
I did manage to hobble down to the basement to do the laundry. It was there that I discovered that lye may not have an indefinite shelf life. Some lye decided to make an escape from its jail cell (aka little plastic container). It then dripped down to a few other items. Luckily, there wasn’t too much damage. Darn, one of the things it ate away at was an iron! Oh, well. Now I can’t iron any clothes. That is such a shame.
My basement now smells of vinegar because I poured that on all the spots where the lye leaked out to neutralize it. I guess there are worse things it can smell of.
I AM the queen of foot pain and I completly concur with your diagnosis. Get off of it and get better soon
Hi there! What’s an iron?
I’m sorry your foot hurts.
I’ll trade you that lye laced iron for my iron that’s fine! I’d love an excuse.